Nostalgia and Cigarettes

1993 continued.
Tre.

Call me pathetic, call me what you will because I ran away for a while. I mean, obviously, I didn’t run away forever or anything since we’ve been a band now for something like 20 years now, but I needed to get away - away from him. I didn’t know what else to do and I panicked; it was the only thing I could think of. But a person couldn’t blame me for what I did. I was young, and I was an idiot. So I ran away. We weren’t that big yet at the time since Dookie was still in the process. Thank god though, it made things easier to sneak on by through the crowds unnoticed like a person’s shadow.

I was only gone for two weeks, but to me, it felt as if I was gone for months. I wasn’t rich, so I couldn’t afford to go anywhere far. In the end, I found myself wandering the streets of Los Angeles. I rented a room in some cheap motel and was cooped inside that small, cramped room for hours on end, and cried or moped or just thought about anything that had to do with him. I felt childish for running away. And I felt even more disgusted with myself that after all that heartbreak, I continued to love him.

I kept wondering if it was normal to continue to love him even with his cold response. I’m working on it. Why couldn’t he have lied to Mike? Why couldn’t he just say he loved me? He was a terrific liar, why didn’t he lied some more? Did he even regret saying that? Was he actually telling the truth when he said that to Mike? All these questions jumbled up in my mind, and when I finally couldn’t take it anymore, I hurried to the nearest bar.

So I drank. I drank all my troubled thoughts away. It worked at first. I would drink so much that I could hardly stand up. It was a wonder how I managed to end up in my motel bed each morning without recalling a single memory of the previous night. But after the eleventh night, I just couldn’t do it anymore. I knew I couldn’t just hide out any longer. Not only that, but I was running dangerously low on cash. I spent most of it on booze. Like I said before, I was an idiot.

Somehow, I made it back to Oakland. And as I found myself sitting on the front steps of the house I shared with Billie and Mike, I wondered if he missed me. I wondered if he regretted not saying I love you. I wondered if he even noticed that I was gone. But before I could gather enough courage to enter the small household, I felt someone grab the hem of my shirt and then slam me against the wall.

Billie Joe fucking Armstrong. And before I could utter out a single word, he roughly shoved his lips onto mine. As he kissed me roughly, I felt all the anger, fear, desperation, passion, and even a hint of love he had felt. Needless to say, it was one of the most memorable kisses we’ve ever shared together.

Finally, I somehow regained my senses and shoved him off of me. He attempted to lunge at me once more, but I held up my hand to stop him. He had enough respect for me and stood still. I was breathing hard and closed my blue eyes to recollect my thoughts. But not only that, if I hadn’t snapped my eyes shut, I wouldn’t be able to stop the tears from pouring out.

I took a deep breath and finally found the words to say. “Billie, do you love me?” I asked quietly.

At first, he didn’t say anything. It was as if he hadn’t expected me to ask that. “Tre, don’t be ridiculous. Of course, I do. Why would you ask something like that? But anyway, where the fuck have you b-”

I shook my head and raised my hand again. “Fuck you, Billie Joe. You really think I’m being ridiculous? You think this is all a big joke?”

He furrowed his eyebrows and stared at me with disbelief. “What are you talking about, Tre?”

“You damn know what I’m talking about. I heard what you said to Mike,” I spat out before taking a deep breath. “I heard it all. He asked you if you loved me. You said 'I’m working on it.'”

He stared at me with horror, but only momentarily. He quickly regained his composure and began to deny it. But by then, I began to shut down. I blocked out any bullshit that came out of his perfectly shaped lips. I never realized how much I actually loved him. If I hadn’t truly loved him, I wouldn’t have been in so much pain, so much heartbreak. And by then, the tears started to fall. I tried to get a grip of myself, but I just couldn’t do it anymore. I thought I was ready to face him when I came back home, but clearly I was wrong.

Billie moved closer to me and placed his arms around me. I attempted to pull away, but he held a firm grip. I gave up trying to get away and sobbed onto his chest. And the whole time, I pathetically slapped his chest over and over, and muttered, “I fucking hate you, I fucking hate you.”

We stayed in that position for several minutes or maybe even hours for all I knew. I finally started to calm down after he began to stroke my back gently. My eyes finally dried out, and my body trembled slightly. I had never cried so much in my life. And I kept thinking, was he really worth all these tears?

I eventually gathered the courage to glance up to him. His eyes were also slightly red. I didn’t even realize that he cried as well. But what do I know? Maybe he only cried because he was caught in the moment.

“Billie, can you please just be honest with me?” I pleaded. When he nodded, I asked him one last time, “Do you really love me?”

He shut his emerald eyes and an inaudible sigh escaped his mouth. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but shut it again. For the first time, I saw him vulnerable. And for the first time, he was speechless.

“Honestly, Tre,” he started as he opened his eyes once more. His green eyes had never looked so goddamn beautiful. I felt my heart skip a beat. But then he looked away as if he couldn’t bear to look at me any longer. He looked so fucking lost, I almost felt sorry for him. “I think I do, but there are times when I honestly don’t know. I love so many things about you. And fuck man, you’re always in my thoughts. You drive me fucking insane sometimes. There are times when I want you so badly that it hurts. But, shit, I don’t know. I don’t know if I love you as much as you love me.”[.i]

I felt numb. I didn’t even want to cry anymore. And I didn’t know what to feel. So I just nodded, and gently pushed him away from me. I was ready to walk away from everything that had to do with him before he grabbed my arm and placed another electrifying kiss on my lips. He placed a hand on my cheek, and stared longingly at me. His eyes, they sent shivers up my spine.

“You deserve so much better than me – so much fucking better. I care about you, Tre. I care so much about you that I’m letting you go. You’ll find someone who’s more than perfect for you. But please, stop hurting. Stop hurting for me. Let’s just…put this all behind us, and shit, I know that’s impossible and all, but let’s try it. Let’s be the best fucking band in the world. It’ll be you, me, and Mike. Us three. What do you say, Tre?”

How did he expect me to stop hurting just like that? How did he expect me to mend this broken heart that’s beyond repair? What made him think that I can find someone better than him? But I didn’t say anything else. I just nodded. I thought about Mike. He was right. This thing we had did jeopardize the band. I didn’t want to let Mike down. He cared so much about this band, and as much as I hate to admit it, I cared about it as well. So I just nodded passively and reluctantly agreed for Mike's sake and Green Day's sake.

But even though we stuck together and ruled the world with our music, I’ve never been able to let go. I just couldn’t let him go.